The Longest Night
by Chelone
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester find themselves entangled in a long running feud between demonic Japanese warriors, which leeds not only to the death of one of the demons but Dean as well.
1. The Day The Hero Died

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Supernatural" nor any characters that are recognized in the show.

This story takes place someplace during season three. Also there will be spoilers for those of you who have not seen an episode of season three. --_author's note._

SUMMERY: Sam and Dean Winchester find themselves entangled in a long running feud between ancient demonic warriors, which leads not only the death of one of the demons but Dean as well.

**------------------------------**

**The Longest Night**

Written by Chelone

**-Chapter One-  
**'The Day The Hero Died'

Sam Winchester's eyes were burning. He moved his hand toward his eyes, rubbing them, only to realize afterward that it had only made them burn even more. His entire body was aching, also pins and needles had appeared in his feet. He had been slouched in the cramped passenger seat of the Impala for the past several hours with only Dean, a bottle of beer; that was now empty, and the muffled sound of the radio. He tried to stretch his arms out, yawning. He felt so tired as it was so late, but he could not afford to fall asleep now, not when they had a demon to hunt. Well they had already found out where the demon would be, thanks to a friend of his Ruby. Not that Ruby was much of a friend to Sam, in fact Sam did not know if he could entirely trust her. Ruby was a demon, after all. But demon or not, the young women had saved his ass more than a couple of times now, Sam may as well give her the benefit of the doubt, even if Dean wouldn't.

Sam yawned once more, this time covering his mouth. The young man stretched, again, this time joints in his shoulders seemed to pop out of place. It was painful, but Sam could deal with the pain, after all he had endured much worse in his life. Pain was all a part of his job, not the glamorous part of it. But if you chose to hunt demons for a living you may as well get used to pain, it became something of an annoying friend.

Sam had been seated in the car for a long time now, it angered him. Though like the great samaritan he was, Sam would not ignore the fact that someone was going to die...tonight. Of course it would have helped them to know who it was, Ruby had been unclear on that little fact. All she had said, all she had told Sam was that "Someone was going to die in the hands of a demon near Hooker's avenue." _Yeah, gee, thanks Ruby, _Sam thought bitterly. Honestly the women could have at least given him a name, instead of a crypt warning.

Sam watched the alleyway, his senses were fully alert. He watched the dark, waiting, hoping that the demon would attack sometime soon. That was another small, and yet very important detail that Ruby had forgotten to mention, what time the demon was going to near it's nasty, ugly head. Honestly, it could have already attacked. That would mean that Sam and his older brother Dean had been sitting in a cramped car for the past four hours, weapons in hands, and all for nothing. If the danger had already passed than Sam would personally summon Ruby and kick her ass.

Once more Sam rotated his head, trying to work the stiffness out of his neck. His sweaty hand gripped a flask of holy water firmly, while on his lap he had his father's old journal propped open. He had been flipping through it, searching for some kind of way to break a deal with a demon. He may as well of done something to pass the time. But he had had no such luck. So far it looked like Dean was doomed to an eternity in hell, and Sam would be left to fight the big bads all by himself.

Sam could feel sweat sticking to the back of his neck. The weather was warm, and the humidity was high, despite the weather report that morning stating that it would be another cool, and beautiful day. Sam had highly doubted it from the start. He had given up believing the weatherman's predictions long before now, just as he was sure everyone else had.

"What time is it?" Sam asked his brother, along with a yawn.

"It is...thirteen minutes past twelve." Dean replied, checking his wristwatch. "No longer Wednesday."

"Where does the day go?" Sam muttered, to himself rather than to Dean.

"Mmm hmm." Dean agreed, nodding his head. "And we've been sitting around here with our junk in our hands waiting for some bad boy to attack. I'm telling you if this turns out to be some kind of lame ass joke that Ruby chick has cooked up, than I will send that bitch's ass straight back to hell."

Sam did not respond to this. Despite his own uncertainty toward the demon Ruby he highly doubted that this was some kind of hoax. She seemed to know what she was saying when she had confronted Sam earlier than evening. Besides that, Sam knew that Ruby meant well, after all she had helped them to restore the colt, that was now rested in Dean's lap. If it weren't for the colt the crossroad's demon would still be alive and breathing, and making her damned deals. Even though killing the demon had done nothing to break Dean out of the deal Sam had no regrets, she had been a bitch, he had done the world a favor quite frankly. Speaking of said deal, Ruby had also sworn to Sam that she would help with that one too. But had she? All she had told Sam was, "All in good time". What the hell was that supposed to mean? Honestly Sam was glad she had saved his butt at times, and was grateful for the colt back in action again, but her cryptic way of speaking was really starting to tick him off.

His sleepy eyes still burned, and he rubbed them once again, feeling the irritation increase. The time that he had dropped his hand he had caught a glimpse of something moving in the darkness near the alley.  
He froze.  
Clearly Dean had seen it too, because his eyes too were fixated on the same spot that Sam's were.  
For several seconds his heart beat seemed to be out of control, he sat completely still and ignored the messages of protest his neck and the muscles in his legs and arms were sending him. He watched the alleyway, watched as something stirred in the darkness. He could see something now, a person that was headed toward the Impala. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam could see Dean's right hand fastening itself firmly around the colt's handle. Sam's hand was still gripping tight onto the flask of holy water.

There was a rap at his window. Sam jumped, his fingers still holding the holy water, his other hand began to reach for the handle of door. He was going to open the door, briskly yet carefully, and splash the holy water in the demonic son of a bitch's face. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to rip clean from his chest. He was about to swing to car door open when he heard another tap at the window. Sam looked up, his heart mellowed immediately, it wasn't a demon it was...

"Bela?" Sam said through gritted teeth.

"What the hell are you doing here!?" Dean exclaimed, giving the young women the same icy stare that Sam was.

"What's the matter boy's? You look like you just saw a ghost?" Bela Talbot commented, grinning scornfully at them. She enjoyed playing with their heads, God knows why. "Are you going to let me in, or not?" Bela asked Sam, arching an eyebrow at the two boys.

Sam and Dean both cast each other a glance. They were both thinking the same answer, _Hell no!   
_Sam let out a heavy sigh. He knew he had no other choice but to open the car door. He couldn't very well just leave her standing out there when both boy's knew very well that a demon was going to show at any given moment. Sam couldn't let that happen, despite his hatred toward the women.

"Cheers." Bela said as Sam opened the car door for her. She slid in the back seat, clutching a file in her manicured hands, and wearing a smug expression. "Really boys, you both looked startled out of your wits."

"_Oh_ really?" Dean scoffed.  
"I think startled is a slight understatement, Bela." Sam added.

"Have you got something for us, or not Bela?" Dean asked bitterly. Just like Sam, Dean did not try and hide his distaste for the women either.

"What makes you think I have something for you, Dean." Bela retorted coolly. "Honestly the world does not revolve around you, if it did than it would be in a lot more chaos than it already is, yeah?"

Sam could see that Dean wanted nothing more than to shoot Bela, but Sam could also see that his brother was trying very hard not to.

"What have you got there?" Sam asked, pointing toward the files that Bela had clutched in her hands.

"I found your demon." she replied, throwing Dean a dirty stare. "Or should I say _demons._" she added, holding out the file for one of them to take for her.

Dean snatched the file out of her hands, not even bothering to thank her. Bela appeared quite pissed about that too, because she responded coldly with"You're welcome."

Dean read through the files, showing Sam them too. Sam read, and then re-read through the notes. A frowned, a crease line appearing on his forehead. "Demonic warriors?" Sam asked, looking over at Bela in perplexity.

"Yes, demonic warriors." Bela answered. "Two clans in fact, Tengu and Kitsune. I think the names are should be mentioned in there somewhere."

Sam and Dean both stared open mouthed at her, each wearing matching facial expressions of utter bafflement. Sam had never heard of there being 'clans' of demons. He had always assumed that demons all worked together, like one big happy—and not to mention evil—family. But now there were clans? What the hell? In all Sam's life he had never heard of such a thing. His father had certainly never mentioned anything in spoken or written language. Bobby neither. Dean was clearly thinking the same thing as Sam, because Sam noticed that he too looked just as bewildered.

"Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about!?" Bela exclaimed, noticing both brother's expressions. "Honestly, it's like you two were born yesterday. Tengu and Kitsune are both an ancient race of Japanese--"

"It doesn't matter who they are right now." Sam cut across. He pointed toward the alleyway, which now saw a group of heavily armed demons enter. "They're here."

"Well then." Dean said, holding up the colt. "It's showtime!"

Sam felt the nerves start to kick in as he stepped out of the Impala. As soon as he was outside, Sam could feel the cool breeze of the night whip his face. It was much cooler outside than it had been in the car. He followed Dean, Bela followed Sam. The three made their way into the alley. Sam wondered why Bela had even bothered to go with them. He highly doubted that she was going to help Sam and Dean fight these demons, perhaps she would help get them killed—now that seemed more Bela's style.

"What are you doing here?" Dean hissed, glaring loathsomely at Bela.

"I'm here to help." she replied.

Sam and Dean both snorted with laughter. She was there to help them? Neither brother would believe that one. There was something in it for her, there was always something in it for her. On the outside Bela appeared demure, attractive, and she would even plaster on a fake smile that would make you believe she was one of the good guys. But never judge a book by it's cover. On the inside Bela Talbot was a cruel, selfish, and cold hearted bitch that would do _anything _to get her greedy hands on something that was worth a bit of cash. She had every inner quality Sam despised most in people. But her unpleasant personality was not the only thing that Sam hated about her, but the fact that she had shot him a month ago. She had shot him the shoulder, and still to this day she would not even feel the slightest remorse for doing. Sam had just been in her way, as far she was concerned. That is the very reason why Sam detested her most.

Sam peeked his head around the corner. He could see a group of demons, seven at least, but there may have been more. He knew they were demons, despite the fact that they looked human, their eyes told a different story entirely. Their eyes were entirely black; a true sign of the corrupt beast that was hidden beneath the mask's they wore. As far as Sam could tell they all appeared to be Asian, Japanese would be Sam's best guess, but he wasn't completely sure this was accurate. There were three females, four males, seven altogether. Sam's counting had been spot on, though that was not a good thing. Seven against three, that was not fair, but then again, what in life really was?

"What are they doing?" Dean asked Sam.

"I don't know." Sam shrugged. "My best guess would be perhaps they're waiting for someone."

Bela let out a snort of laughter, that caused Sam and Dean to turn around shush her. "You two really are a couple of moron's, aren't you?" she scoffed, giving them a malicious grin. "Of course they're waiting for someone, Sam, they're the Kitsune clan."

"How the hell do you know that?" Dean asked.

"Unlike you Dean, I do my homework." Bela retorted coldly. "I can see their weapons, very old, very deadly, and not to mention very valu--"

"Alright we need to move!" Sam exclaimed.

"Why!?" Dean and Bela both asked at exactly the same time.

"Because more are headed this way!" Sam pointed to another set of demons, coming from their direction. This lot had seven also, and judging by the looks of fury, and hate on their faces they had spotted the three hunters.

"Crap!" Dean cursed. He pointed the colt toward one of them, aiming for their heart, he cocked the gun, and once he had an accurate shot he fired. The colt had found it's target, but the demon did not die. It had been shot in the heart with a gun that was designed to kill demons, and the thing was not dead. How could that possibly be. The demon looked pissed, glaring at Dean furiously. It moved a hand toward Dean. "Double crap!" Dean exclaimed before being flown into the wall.

"Why won't the colt kill them?" Sam asked, turning to Bela.

"What! You thought it could?" Bela asked in disbelief. "The only thing that can kill either the Tengu, or the Kitsune demon is their own weapons"

"Oh well naturally, general knowledge I'm taking it?" Sam asked sarcastically.

Bela raised an eyebrow. "Well for a demon hunter, it should be." she snapped back.

Sam did not have the time to argue back with her, because another one of the newly arrived demons had sent him flying back into the wall too. Sam felt himself hurling backward, it was almost as if an invisible hand had flown him in the air like a Frisbee. Sam's back hit the hard brick wall, then he collapsed to the ground. He let out a groan, all his bones in his body felt like they were on fire. Before standing, Sam took a quick glance at his brother who had already gotten back on two feet, and was fighting a male, muscled Japanese demon. 

Sam stood up briskly, which after he had done so felt immediate pain shoot up and down his spine. He let out another groan of agony, but he would have to deal with the pain. He would have to fight these things, somehow. His only hope right now was if Bela had some kind of supernatural weapon that could kill these bad fairies. Sam thought for a moment. Bela was his only hope...well then, he may as well be dead already.

Sam stood in a fighting stance, fists ready, and ready for action. But none of the demons had come his way. In fact it seemed that they were fighting each other, except for Dean, who was still taking on that big muscled demon single handed. Sam could not tell the two clans of demons apart, expect he knew that one of the seven sets proffered long swords, daggers, and axes. The other clan were all carrying crossbow's, expect for one that was holding a long wooden stick that had a sharp end. They were pretty funky weapons, weapons Sam had never seen before. He had to wonder, though, why neither of the clans were carrying guns. Perhaps these two groups of demons had not caught up with the new century.

Sam was forced to duck when an arrow as sent in his direction.

"This is not your fight, human, be gone from this plane." Sam heard one of the crossbow carrying demons shout at him.

Sam arched an eyebrow. He could either do as they say, or go help out his brother. He was going to choose the latter on this one. Sam darted toward Dean, but before he could reach his brother a female knife carrying demon came rushing in his direction. She was beautiful, her stunning and without a single flaw oriental features looked even more stunning as she ran toward him. Her long black hair, whipped across her petite face like silk, as she flung a graceful sidekick in Sam's direction. Sam had been unable to block it. He was sent staggering backward, clutching his agonizing ribs.

Just as Sam had regained his balance back, the petite female demon had sent him crashing into a set of twin dumpsters, with only one wave of her hand. Sam cursed under his breath. He tried to stand, despite the large amount of pain his body was in. Sam slowly began to stand, it was difficult, and he had almost made it, well until the petite demon had lunged at him again. She landed on top of him, taking a small knife out of her pocket. For a few moments Sam thought she was going to use it to stab him in the heart, but instead she used it to pin him down to the ground. Sam let out a shriek of pain as the blade pierced through his shoulder flesh. It had pinned him down. But why had the demon not killed him? She just wanted him out of the way.

Before the petite demon left she bent down, her face closing in on Sam's. She moved her mouth toward his ear, and whispered something. "This is not your fight, please, go before you get hurt." She took the knife out of his shoulder, causing Sam even more pain, and left. She turned to look at him one last time before running in to join the rest of the demons.

Sam still lay on top of pile of garbage. His heart was beating brisk, he had no idea why the demon had not killed him. He not no idea why they did not want to harm any of them. It was as if...  
Sam had been unable to complete the conclusion in his mind. He heard a loud scream, a scream coming from a demon, and then another scream coming from...Dean.

"DEAN!"

Sam did not hesitate to stand. He ran toward his brother, but a hand was holding him back. He tried to break free from the demon's firm grasp. He watched as a long speared weapon pierced through both Dean's and one of the knife carrying demon's bodies. Sam let out a gasp. He called his brother's name was more. He tried to break free again, this time the demon's grasp was less firm. Sam rushed toward his brother, who was lying on the cement, heavily bleeding. Sam started to cry, tears welling in his eyes. He gripped his older brother's bloody hand, gripping it firmly. The blood from Dean was getting all over Sam's clothing but he did not care. As Sam gripped his older brother's hand he noticed that it had began to get colder, almost as if Dean was dying.

"No, no, no, no." Sam shook his head. Dean could not die, not here, not now. It wasn't his time, not yet anyway. "Dean?" Sam said, looking at his brother through teary eyes.

"Sam." Dean said, his voice was weak and raspy.

Sam watched in horror as Dean's eyes began to close. He reached for his older brother's wrist, checking for a pulse, but there was none. Dean was dead.

**------------------------------**

_**To be continued...**_


	2. Déjà Vu

**------------------------------**

**-Chapter Two-  
**'Déjà Vu'

_Dean was dead._

Sam awoke with a start, and with cold sweat stuck to his face. He sat up, alert, the bed sheets slipping off of him and onto the floor. Sam looked around the room, while leaning against the bedpost. He was in the motel room, the same one he and Dean had booked out a few nights ago. He recognized the place, though something seemed off about it.

_Dean, _Sam thought, remembering his brother. Dean had died. He had seen his older brother die right before him, Sam had held his bloody corpse in his hands. But Dean had died in the alleyway, near Hookers avenue, _so what am I doing in the motel room_? The sound of his cell phone ringing caused Sam to disconnect from his troubling questions. He reached across the bed, toward the bed side cabinet where his phone was.

"Hello?" Sam said. He held the phone to his ear with one hand, while his other was rubbing his forehead. His head hurt something terrible, it felt like it was on fire. In fact Sam had not had a headache that made since... _Since my visions, _Sam thought. But how could he get visions? The yellow-eyed demon was dead, and besides that he was nor or had not had a vision is at that moment. _So why the sudden headache? _

After waiting for a response in his cell, Sam hung up. There had been no answer. He had not even heard the sounds of breathing on the other end of the line. Sam thought this was rather odd, but he just dismissed it as a wrong number, or something along those lines. He placed his phone back on the bed side table. He still sat up, staring at the empty bed in front of him. There was another single bed in the room; Dean's. It looked like it had already been slept in, because the sheets were pulled off. Sam also noticed some of his older brother belongings—clothes, knives, guns—scattered untidily on the bed, and on the small space of floor that surrounded the bed.

_Dean, _Sam thought to himself, as images of his brother dying popped into his head. He tried to stop thinking about the death, and not just because every time Sam thought of his brother tears would well in his eyes, but because Sam just did not want to believe that Dean was dead. It just could not be possible. _How could it be possible_? But it was. Sam had seen his older brother, and that demon die right before his eyes. But Sam was shedding any tears for that demon, hence the creature that it was.

"Sam?".

Sam looked up. He had heard someone call his name. Someone had sounded like a very familiar voice. If Sam would have known any he could have sworn in had been Dean's voice calling out to him. _But Dean is dead, _Sam thought. He shook his head. Perhaps he had just been hearing this.

"Sam! You awake?" called Dean's voice again.

Sam's eyes widened. It had defiantly been Dean's voice he had heard, and he had defiantly heard it. Sam's eyes widened—if it were even possible—even more, when Dean slipped into the room. Sam did not know what to say, or even do. He had sat there, mouth open in shock, staring at his older brother who was carrying a local newspaper and two coffees. It was as if Sam were looking at a ghost. But the Dean Sam saw before his eyes was no ghost. Sam had grown up looking at spirits, and his brother was no ghost. Dean was alive, solid, and talking to him as if nothing had happened.

"You...you're alive!" Sam gasped. He flung off the bed immediately to wrap his arms around his brother's neck.

"Get off me!" Dean said gruffly, gently pushing his young brother away. "Yeah, I'm alive Sam."

Sam was left with no words—he was utterly speechless. When he had hugged Dean it had only been to see if his brother really was not a ghost, and much to Sam's surprise his brother was solid. "I can't believe this." Sam said. Although he should be feeling happy, pleased that his brother was alive and well, Sam just couldn't help but get the feeling that something strange was going on. Something supernaturally, demoniacally, strange.

Dean frowned. To Sam's surprise he was glancing around the room, looking for something. "Have you been drinking?" Dean asked, turning his attention back to his brother. "'Cause it's not even ten yet Sammy."

"No! I haven't been drinking, and it's Sam." Sam replied firmly. "I...you're dead...I mean you were, but you're not now. It's bazaar."

"Alrightee then." Dean said in length. "Are you positive—swear on your life—you ain't drunk."

Sam frowned. His brother thought he was crazy, but then again, Sam even thought he was a little crazy at that moment. _What the hell is going on? _

"Alright—swear on my life Dean—I'm not drunk. You were dead. I saw you die. You and a demon both took a sharp weapon to the gut."

Dean did not look convinced. "I'm alive Sam." he said, holding his hands out in gesture. "I don't know what you saw, but it sure as hell wasn't real, because I'm sure as hell alive. When did all this go down anyway?"

"No more than an hour ago." Sam answered. "...maybe even less." he quickly added after thinking the question through properly.

"You were asleep an hour ago."

"What!" Sam exclaimed. "I was asleep."

"Yeah." Dean answered flatly. "Asleep, as in not conscious. Whatever you saw must have just been some weird—and sure as hell hope it doesn't come true—nightmare."

Sam thought about this possibility for a few moments. Even though it had sounded reasonable, it just could not be possible.  
"It had felt it too real to be a dream, Dean. I mean every inch of pain that was inflicted upon me I could feel. I could feel the ground beneath my feet, the temperature, and even the emotions that were pouring through me at the time. I don't think it was a dream. I think something has happened. I think a demon's done something."

Sam could see that Dean was thinking this over in his mind, trying to make sense of what the guy had just heard coming from his younger brother's mouth. "I don't think any weird demonic mojo is going on." Dean said, coming to a conclusion. "Hell, If I'd of died than wouldn't I of felt it? Why would you remember it when I don't? No. It was just some nightmare. Seriously, sometimes my dreams feel pretty damn real too."

Sam just shook his head in disbelief at Dean's last words. He had really not needed to know that. Now every time that Sam would close his eyes he would get a real scary image in his head. Sam would just have to try not to blink—ever again. Though that was going to prove difficult as it had only been a few seconds and his eyes were already watering.   
Perhaps Dean's death had all been a dream. Maybe Dean was right on this one—heaven's forbid. Besides Sam couldn't really complain, because dream or no dream, his brother was alive, and that was all that mattered. Even if it had not been a dream than maybe just maybe, angels really did exist.

**------------------------------**

Sam flipped through the local newspaper, scanning through the headlines, searching for a possible lead. Two hours had passed since his very confusing encounter with Dean, and his older brother was still tossing Sam weird looks whenever he and Dean were in the same room as each other. _Dean thinks I'm nuts, _Sam thought to himself, while taking another sip of his coffee. It had not been the first time his older brother had thought he was loosing his mind. When Sam had first starting having his "weirdo visions" as Dean called them, Dean had been scared out of his wits. The guy had been tried to convince Sam—at first—that his nightmares, day visions, were just some coincidence. But Dean had been wrong, Sam's visions had not been a coincidence, and Sam was certain that whatever had happened now was no coincidence either. Sam was positive that Dean had died. He couldn't remember much else though. The only thing Sam could remember was the speared weapon slicing through Dean's heart. He remembered Dean dying in his arms with just a single word to say, and that was all Sam could remember. Everything else just seemed a blur. In fact the more he thought about it all, the more his headache worsened.

Sam looked away from the newspaper and toward his brother. Dean was sitting on his bed, sharpening one of his hunting knives. Somehow this whole scene in Sam's mind seemed rather familiar to him. Like him flipping through a newspaper, watching Dean as he prepared their knives and guns for hunts. It all just seemed like major déjà vu.  
A sharp pain shot through Sam's head, causing his right hand to instinctively place itself over his forehead. Sam let out a groan of agony. His headache was growing more severe in pain.

"You alright?" Dean asked. A worried expression crossed the young man's face.

"Yeah" she replied. The pain did not stop. Sam had been forced to close his eyes for a few moments, the headache felt like it was blinding him. "Just a really...ow...head...ouch...ache" Sam added in length. He could not see Dean, but he knew that his older brother's face would be pulled into an expression of deepest angst. Sam did not like his brother worrying about him, it caused Sam to feel pangs of guilt inside.

Dean did not respond, but Sam could sense that his brother was more concerned than he was letting on, and wasn't just the headache Dean was concerned about. Perhaps Dean seriously thought that Sam was going crazy. Whatever it was, Sam just hoped that his brother would cut the worrying crap out, it was really starting to annoy him.

Apparently Dean could sense the atmosphere in the air because he announced to Sam that he would be turning on television for some background noise. Sam thought that background noise was just an excuse, and believed the real reason behind it was because Dean wanted to get his and Sam's mind of headaches, and bazaar dreams. Neither of the brothers wanted to go down that "premonition" path again.

Sam's eyes caught the attention of the small television set in the motel room when the weather announcements came up.  
_"It's going to be another cool and beautiful day." _the weather women announced, flashing a million dollar smile, and not mention a fake set of pearly white teeth. But it wasn't the women's fake persona that made a crease line appear in between Sam's brows, but what the women had just said made Sam feel that sudden feeling of déjà vu wash over him again.

"They always get it wrong." Dean muttered.

"What was that?" Sam asked, turning his chair around to face his brother.

"The weather chick." Dean replied, pointing the television's remote to screen where the women was now talking about the rise in humidity that would be expected in Dallas. "They always screw it up. They say it's gonna be a hot day it turns out to be cool, they say it's gonna storm it turns out to be--"

"Did what that weather chick just say seem familiar to you Dean?" Sam cut across.

Dean frowned at Sam's question. "What! no. That's what those people always say. Even in crap weather, they always toss that same line. Why?" Dean briskly added after he had noticed the concerned expression on Sam's face.

"Nothing." Sam responded a little more quickly than he would have liked to avoid suspicion. "It's just I feel a major case of déjà vu right now. Everything that has happened so far. You getting the paper and coffee, me flipping through the paper while you sharpen a knife, and then you turning the television on and that weather report popping up. I don't know man, it just...I feel like this has all happened before."

Again, Dean did not respond. He just stared at Sam for a few moments, with a facial expression full of concern. "Listen Sam, days cannot repeat themselves. It ain't possible, and even if it were why would a demon reverse time so that I would live. It doesn't make any sense."

"Because you were not the only one that died." Sam pointed out. "A demon died too, so maybe that demon had friends, maybe it--"

"_It what_!?" Dean exclaimed. "Time travel does not exist Sam. Dean never found anything that would proved that it did. It's just like alien abductions, and unicorns. It's just a big sticking pile of bull crap!"

"Why?" Sam asked in disbelief. "Just because our _father _couldn't find anything on time loops doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Hell, there have been tons of things that we've faced that he never believed in." Sam told Dean.

Dean crossed his hands firmly against his chest. A sour expression had replaced his concerned look. "Dad's dead and you're still on his case." Dean muttered bitterly.  
Sam knew all too well that Dean hated when he spoke distastefully about his father. Dean had always been the 'the good one' according to their father. The boy that had done everything their father had asked, including giving up his own childhood. Sam on the other hand had been the complete opposite. He had never listened to his father, perhaps sometimes, but Sam had just hated the way their father would expect them to just fall into line, take criticism lightly, and believe every single word that had come from his mouth.

"Listen, why can't you just believe me on this one?" Sam asked.

"No." Dean answered firmly.

"Why?" Sam asked through gritted teeth.

"Because it doesn't make any sense!" Dean said, raising his voice. "You had a dream, a nightmare, nothing else. Why can't you just believe that?" 

Sam looked at his brother for a few moments, rage boiling inside of him. He really wanted to hit Dean, and release all that rage that Sam had been locking away inside of him for the past few months. It wasn't just Dean that was causing Sam to feel anger, but a lot more things were on his mind too. Things that still bothered Sam deeply. Things that the yellow eyed demon had told him, and had planned for him. It still haunted him, and instead of feeling relieved that yellow eyes had been wasted, Sam was just feeling more angry by the day.

"Where are you going!" Dean ordered, as Sam had started to make his way toward the door.

Sam stopped in his tracks. His hand had almost reached, and turned the door handle. "I'm going to go work my imaginary case, and get to the bottom of this. Something demonic is going on, and I know it. Now you can either help me, or you don't .Either way I'm gonna find out what the hell is going on."

Once Dean was sure Sam had left, instead of feeling upset, or even angry, the young man just smiled. "I don't." he said, grinning corruptly. The young man blinked, his eyes turned from the hazel green color they had once been to entirely black. He wasn't Dean. He was a demon.

**------------------------------**

_**To be continued...**_


End file.
